I Don't Want to Be Fixed! I Am the Evil Duke!!!!

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this…

I, the Duke Luphor, was just attending as per my habit the social evening occurring at each full moon. An old custom held in our kingdom of Emphrellaig for centuries now. I simply couldn’t miss the opportunity to dampen the mood with my evil presence.

It wasn’t supposed to happen at all. It wasn’t.

Standing by the buffet, I was savouring the taste of apple cider and of the frustrated glances focused on me. Our host of the day himself, the Duke Suffpelk, nervously bit his napkin at my very sight. It was all he could fathom to do, though. He indeed knew better than to confront me. Everyone was aware of what happened to the last noble who unfortunately forgot to send me an invitation.

A smirk lingered on my lips at the memory of his squeals. I took another sip.

“Good evening, my lord. May I have the pleasure of dancing with you?”

But the moment I heard her voice…

“Ohh? How bold of a lady to make such a request to me.” The words rolled over my tongue with amusement. “Do you not know who you are…”

As I spoke, I turned my golden eyes to the foolish young woman who dared to ask me. But the moment my gaze fell upon her, my smirk faltered.

“…talking to.”

Her closed eyes held that innocent, yet mischievous note. Unsettling. Her short orange hair adorned with a golden butterfly, she reminded me of an alstroemeria. Elegant. Her lilac and cyan dress did little to distract me from her smile. Unnerving.

“Naturally, Duke Luphor.”

The glass I held between my fingers cracked and shattered the moment my psyche did.

I vowed to spend a whole century in hell for calling that woman foolish. Let me. Please, I beg.

A shiver ran up my spine the moment her smile widened.

“I guess I’m the one who shall present herself.” She pinched her dress and lowered her head in a curtsey orchestrated to make my heart miss a beat. “Marquessa Ambrillia.”

It was love at first dance.

Her hand in mine felt so small I was frankly worried I would crush it. As we twirled under the light of the crystal chandelier, my fingers pressing against her waist when needed, I let the music guide my steps. My thoughts, as for them, couldn’t lose focus yet.

“I am the Duke Luphor, I must remain cautious. As far as I am aware, she could as well be an assassin sent to end my days. I may have gotten rid of my father’s enemies, but the number of mine keeps rising. Maybe she has poison on her lips. Not that I…”

An intrusive thought made me stumble, my balance sent to the afterworld. It was but thanks to the endless hours spent practising dancing that I managed to disguise my misstep as a dip. My eyes widened. The Marquessa Ambrillia bent back, letting out a chuckle as strands of my crimson hair tickled her cheek.

“Focus. Keep focus.”

My gloved fingers gave an impulse to her back so that she could regain her balance.

I needed to understand what sort of person the marquessa was.

“How come that I never had the chance to meet you before tonight, my lady?” I asked.

“Mmm, it just so happens that I’m often occupied on full moons.” She mused. “I usually hold a party at the orphanage.”

“The orphanage? Isn’t it counterproductive to hold a charity evening at the same time as the moonly social event?”

She shook her head with a smile.

“It’s not for fund-raising, I simply wish to entertain the children a bit.”

“Oh, you seem to have quite the benevolent soul.” I noted before the notes of the waltz allowed me to lean in closer and murmur next to her ear. “Aren’t you afraid that being seen by my side would tarnish your image?”

A scent of fresh apricots filled my nostrils the moment I got too close. It was a fragrance I already knew would inhabit my dreams tonight.

Was it the moment I scented her fruity perfume that I lowered my guard, or was it when she uttered these words in reply?

“That’s sweet of you to worry for me, Duke Luphor. But I am a grown-up woman. I can choose whom I want to be close to.”

“C-close.” I stuttered against my will.

My mind went blank after the spontaneous combustion of my very braincells.

“Maybe she wasn’t sent to kill me, but to break me psychically. Have I such a potent enemy, desiring to make a toy out of me, only to throw me away when they’ll grow bored? Is the marquessa the chosen pawn to defeat the adverse king?”

Her chuckle echoed the last remnants of my sanity.

Unable to find anything proper to say, I pretended to focus on our steps, making the marquessa twirl at the end of my fingertips. The frills of her dress brushed against my leg like so many feathers. Was she one of the angels from the old legends?

I was unable to prevent a smile from creeping onto my face. Despite my racing thoughts, I couldn’t deny that the more I danced with her, the more I found her company appeasing. When was the last time someone approached me in such a carefree way?

When the music came to an end, I guided her back to the buffet.

“Is there anything you wish for, Marquessa Ambrillia?” I asked, taking a glance at the divine pieces of cake arranged over the layers of lilac cake stands.

“I wonder what can please her tastes.”

“There’s one thing indeed, that I wish for…” She begins.

“Tell me.”

But I barely had the time to turn fully to the marquessa before a shaking voice interrupted us.

“Duke Luphor! I have news that requires your attention.”

“What is it?”

I turned my golden eyes to a servant leaning his head forward, until I gave him permission to speak out. His figure was pale, that of a man facing his death.

“I-It’s Baron Gallghaid.” He begins, the name making me frown. “We just learnt that he managed to escape his cell. The guards are searching for him, without result so far.”

“Gallghaid…”

Enough to elicit a sigh from me. Of course, that garbage of a noble would ruin this wonderful night. Or rather, attempt to. I wouldn’t let him. I simply… didn’t feel like making a fuss about it. Not tonight.

“Very well. Make sure that I know it the moment he gets caught.” I concluded before gesturing at him with the back of my hand. “You’re dismissed.”

It was only then, as the murmurs began to spread around us, as the servant stared at me, worried, that I noticed. Everyone was observing me and exchanging whispers.

“My lord, are you feeling well?” The servant hesitantly questioned.

The reason for his inquiry was, indeed, quite simple. Everyone knew that if one of my vassals dared to dampen my mood he was, at the very least, rudely admonished the following moment.

Only then did I realise. The other guests must have observed me all along, for the way I acted was absolutely abnormal. The Marquessa Ambrillia…. I’ve been nice to her.

I glanced at her, terrified. Her hands intertwined over the fluffy fabric, she still had that innocent smile on her lips.

“Is everything alright, Duke Luphor?” She tilted her head ever so slightly.

This woman was dangerous.

Pacing back and forth through my room, my thoughts circle, replaying in loop last night’s events.

“I can’t believe I let my guard down, even for a short while…” I mutter.

The next moment, a knock at the door makes me pause.

“Enter.” I prompt.

The wooden door adorned with gildings is pushed open by a tall and neatly dressed older man.

“My lord, I’ve done the research you asked me about the Marquessa Ambrillia.” My butler calmly informs.

I wish I could be this relaxed.

“Speak out, Keillweist. What have you found?”

“Only child of the Marquis and Marquessa Ambrillia, her family is more than decently wealthy. They spend most of their time at their estate in Ambrosia, ensuring the welfare of the inhabitants. A small place that is, which explains why my lord hasn’t heard of them by now. Ambrosia is, that said, quite the prosperous land.”

“No… don’t they partake in some sort of smuggling? Do they have blood on their hands? Dubious hobbies?”

“I’m afraid that there’s nothing of that kind.” Keillweist shakes his head, his elegant moustache following the move. “All the gold in their hands comes from their delightful honey and flowers growing there. These are quite appreciated in the whole kingdom. The only notable habit I heard of is that they regularly give out part of their wealth.”

“To obtain other nobles’ favours?”

“As donations to an orphanage.” My butler corrects me.

“Tssk.” I nervously bite my nail.

That must be that place the Marquessa Ambrillia often goes to. She told me about her parties with the orphans.

“This said, regarding their daughter…”

“Yes? Yes, what about her?”

“She’s regularly away from her estate, spending her parents’ money to-”

“I knew it!! So the marquessa is a spoiled child exploiting the Ambrillia’s wealth to satisfy her every whim and desire.”

A spark ignites in my gaze.

“Ahh, don’t spare me Keillweist.” I continue. “I’m ready to hear about the hidden harem she hides in a remote mansion…”

“She spends that money on presents she brings back for the kids.” Keillweist answers flatly.

That is when I fall to my knees, my fingers stiff, pressed to the silk carpet.

“This can’t be… She can’t be that good.” I mutter.

I can’t help but remember last night. It took me only a moment of inattention to get absorbed by her solar presence, forgetting to spread my evilness in the ballroom.

“This woman will lead me to doom…”

Clenching my teeth, I get back to my feet to raise an unwavering fist.

“That’s settled. I simply won’t see her again… I can’t! I don’t want to be fixed!!”

In a precise gesture repeated over decades, Keillweist pulls up my arms a mahogany red coat, fabric pinched between his gloved fingers. Standing still, I refrain from moving until he adjusts the ruffle over my black jacket.

“For today’s breakfast, my lord will have fried eggs and sausages, served in a few minutes. An Onyx tea will be brewed with it, so that you’ll be able to judge for yourself the quality of the latest harvest.”

Ahh, yes. One of the finest varieties of black tea cultivated in Oneixium, the place I rule. Of course, even breakfast is duty.

I turn towards the mirror, taking a few steps closer to it. A step behind me, my butler combs my mid-long crimson hair, tying it back with a moss-green ribbon adorned with gilding.

Each time he speaks, his fluffy moustache keeps quivering, in default of hiding his lips.

“I placed freshly received letters on your desk. Ohh, and the inhabitants beg you to give them more time to pay the levy.”

“Wonderful. Let them beg.” I brush off.

Leaving my bedroom, I walk down the corridor. Every whisper ceases on my way, every word is choked at the sound of my footsteps on the willow floor. The maids, not daring to do anything else, turn to me and bow.

A faint smirk passes over my expression as I note their stiffened shoulders. I was right. Spending the previous days in my mansion helped me focus and replenish my evilness. Paperwork can do wonders. Almost no more intrusive thoughts linger in my mind, allowing me to focus on important matters like Gallghaid’s escape. The ineptitude of the guards of Emphrellaig is simply revolting.

“One week and still no result…”

A golden frame engraved with cursive patterns.

As I bypass a huge painting embedded in the wall, I briefly glance at it with a frown.

“…I’ll make sure to handle this my own way.”

A silver plate is placed in front of me the moment I take my place at the table. A long table in a large dining room. Large enough for the domestic who served me to seek solace along the wall. Only my butler dares to stay a few steps away, straight like the oak he thinks he is.

Index finger hooked around the handle of the finest porcelain, I take a sip of tea. I always find that it tastes better in a cup of this set. I took it as a war trophy from a certain fallen duke’s estate. A noble I praise myself for trapping into a false accusation of worshipping Satan.

A smirk on my lips, I savour the taste of the infused black leaves. Ahh, yes, a terrible crime in a kingdom considering a mere angel’s feather as a lucky charm able to bring prosperity to a whole household. It’s been ages since they showed themselves for the last time. Still, these divine creatures lose, from time to time, a feather which falls upon our lands.

The faint sound of the cup back on its plate echoes throughout the whole dining room. About to pick a sausage with my fork, that’s when I notice a fact that makes me frown with dissatisfaction.

“Bring the man who cooked this.” I order.

Hearing no footsteps yet, I turn a sharp look at the confused domestic glued to the wall.

“Now.”

This time he jumps, remembering he’s not part of the tapestry, to stumble out of the room and down the corridor. Unbewildered by the situation, Keillweist remains true to himself, his hands intertwined against his back.

By the time the servant returns, more footsteps echoing, I’ve taken another sip of tea.

“You called me, my… my lord?” The hesitant voice of the cook utters.

I gesture for him to come closer.

“Tell me, what do you see on this plate?”

The cook leans in closer at my words, glancing down.

“Fried eggs and sausages, my lord.”

“Is that so?” I calmly note. “Because all I can see is a yolk slowly spilling onto my plate.”

Making it obvious, I wave the tip of my knife at the point of the damaged egg bleeding on the silver crime scene.

“…I’m sorry my lord.” The chef mutters, gripping his toque tighter between his fingers. “But… It tastes the same.”

The domestic gasps.

“Oh, it tastes the same.” I repeat.

Slowly, I stand up from my seat, knife still in my hand. I take a few steps in the opposite direction of the cook, not adding a word.

Slowly, I turn around and circumvent the table. At each of my footsteps, I can see the blond cook’s shoulders stiffen as I approach him from behind.

“What makes a fried egg delightful is the moment you cut it yourself, the moment you see the precious yolk threatening to escape it fully, the one you hurry to bring it to your lips before it coagulates.” I lean into the chef’s back, my free hand pressed against his neck while I bring the knife’s blade impossibly close to his right eye. “Tell me, would your eye feel the same if I made it so that the filling comes out of that modest cavity? I guess you wouldn’t mind then.”

At my whisper in his ear, the cook lets out a yelp. The foolish one… He shakes so much that he’d risk the blade cutting his eyeball without my diligent help.

“For..forgive me my lord!! This won’t happen again…” The words almost choked mid-way.

Without a word, calm and expressionless, I glance at him. Close enough to see the sweat rolling down his temple.

“Keillweist.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I step away from the poor man, observing the flat of my knife as I run it along my gloved fingertips.

“You have my authorisation to export the newest harvest of Onyx tea. Ohh, and make sure to hire a competent chef this time.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As I sit back, I can hear the cook fall to his knees with a thud.

Mercilessly scribbling on parchment from the tip of my quill, I pause to rub the bridge of my nose. I’ve been spending hours completing the registers and replying to the letters I received from other nobles. Today, mainly requests relative to trades, more or less legal.

“How many times will I have to tell the count that I have no corpses to sell for his necromancer hobby… Ughh.”

I still have to write a letter to the Viscountess Seighpragh… I resume scribbling.

“Her mercenaries will come in handy to track a certain fugitive. She owes me a favour anyway. It isn’t like she can deflect my request.”

At the thought of having to deal again with that man, my features grow more irritated.

Gallghaid… He was the one I had the most difficulty sending to jail. I somewhat regret not having snatched the life out of him. But dirtying my hands for him seemed like too much of an honour for him. It doesn’t matter though, all rats have their weaknesses…

Knock, knock.

“Come in.” I prompt.

As my butler passes the threshold, I fold the letter.

“Nice timing, Keillweist.” I begin, dripping a few drops of wax over the envelope, stamping it with the symbol of the Luphor family. A spark inscribed in a crescent moon. “Make sure this letter reaches the hands of the Viscountess Seighpragh.”

Keillweist steps closer as I hand him the envelope, the wax still warm.

“My lord, your guest is in the living room. Tea will be ready in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you, Keillweist. You’re always doing a-”

I stop mid-sentence. My gaze directed at a bunch of papers I’m ordering, I pause to glance at my butler.

“Which guest, Keillweist?”

The announcement sounds exotic. The last time a guest showed up, it was to discuss some evil business. But everything was planned beforehand. Showing up without an invitation at a duke’s mansion? It isn’t exactly correct etiquette. A rookie way of asserting malfeasance, maybe? I won’t be surprised if it is again a magic potions’ merchant. They’re plethora these days.

“I still have to make use of the last ones I acquired, though.”

“The Marquessa Ambrillia.” My butler replies, frowning ever so slightly.

Gasp.

“M-make her leave.” I stutter, placing my hands against my head.

That can’t be… She can’t be here. I swore to myself not to see her again. She just can’t be here, in my estate…

“Devil, spare me.”

“But, my lord, wouldn’t the message be stronger if you told her yourself?” The traitor suggests. I’ll make sure to consider the possibility of firing him for that. “No one would dare to anger you once facing your evil aura.”

I hate it when Keillweist is right. Of course no one sane would, not if they wanted to avoid having a target painted on their back.

“Prepare me something stronger. Stronger than tea.” I command to my butler before heading to the living room.

The mere thought of having the Marquessa Ambrillia here, in my mansion, gives me shivers. Of anger, shivers of anger, that is. Doubtlessly. Unmistakably.

Ohh, the audacity to disturb me while I’m busy with paperwork. To think that my day was perfectly planned, and there comes that noblewoman. Uninvited. In the house of a duke, no less. Does she think that I’m going to tolerate this behaviour? I’ll teach her some manners. I’ll spread dishonour over her family and make them the laughing stock of the whole kingdom. I’ll…

The moment I enter the living room, my thoughts are shattered by the sight of the marquessa’s features. She bows in a pale green dress, amber ribbons pinched down its sides like a constant reminder of the colour of her locks I’m trying not to glance at. I should focus instead on the umbrella she left next to the door.

“I’m delighted to see you again, Duke Luphor.”

I’ll…

“Pardon me for showing uninvited,” she continues, “it just so happens that I’m on a stroll through Oneixium.”

“Oneixium isn’t exactly close to Ambrosia, though.”

“So you know about my family.” The marquessa’s smile widens, to my greatest fear. Did she guess I made research about her? “Anyway, it would’ve been a shame not to greet you.”

The tone of her last words, the way she lowers her voice ever so slightly as if I wouldn’t be able to tell,.. I’m unable to refrain from glancing directly at her. Just a quick glance. A quick stolen one before I gesture for her to have a seat on the couch.

What a beautiful woman. I wish I were the cushion over which-

Wait.

No.

Keep focused.

I need to tell her to leave. To show her my true, grim colours.

“Come and greet an evil mind like me? How reckless of a righteous lady like yourself to come alone, defenceless like a cat in a wolf’s den.”

Wait… Wasn’t I supposed to say a mouse? Ahh, but I can’t think of comparing her to that. She definitely looks more like a feline, a graceful creature…

“What if I decided to keep you prisoner? Be more careful, for the devil’s sake.” I threaten, rubbing my temple. “Do you want some pastries?”

She chuckles.

“That’s not how I planned it!!”

I wait for my butler to serve us tea and leave, most probably to bring back sugary delicacies.

It’s only when I take a sip of my tea that the sour taste reminds me I asked for a stronger beverage. Good… It’s enough to ground me. There’s no time to lose, I have to figure out the marquessa’s true intentions. To expose her as the villain-purging pawn she is. Sure she isn’t here for some idle chatting.

“Now tell me the truth, Marquessa Ambrillia. We met but once during the last social evening. I’m not sorry to tell you your little acting isn’t convincing me in the slightest. But I’m going to give you a chance. Who sent you? Which mighty enemy did I anger this time? Speak! Speak, and I may allow you to leave alive.”

Unbothered, she takes a sip of her tea. Her lips gently brushing the brim. Keillweist even has the time to return with plates of cakes, which he places on the low table. Stepping then aside.

“If you’re not going to let me leave your mansion,” she begins, “I hope that you’re ready to take your responsibilities.”

I almost choke on my not-tea.

“She’s messing with me…”

“Alive, I said alive.” I feel necessary to clarify, as if it alone could suffice to avoid any possible misunderstanding regarding my intentions. “I was planning to assassinate you, not to… ke..keep you and…” I was merely threatening her life, not her… her…

I clear my throat with a frown. There’s no way I’m letting her rule my thoughts. I have to admit it, trying to cause me psychic damage is a smart move, but that won’t be enough.

“Duke Luphor, is everything alright?” She tilts her head. “You’re a bit pale.”

“I’m feeling perfectly well.”

“Have you been taking care of yourself lately?” She wonders with a hint of worry.

Worry? A hint of.. worry? Satan… What in the world have I done for that woman to keep pretending she cares?!

I let out a smug laugh.

“I don’t need to rest. This body of mine is fuelled by the whimpers of the peasants struggling to repay their lord. Ahh, they don’t realise their crops and children would be prey to the forest’s monsters without my protection.” I add, shaking my head in disbelief. “Not to mention that I had the greatest of pleasures spending these last days writing letters to the nobles owing me a favour,” I savour the word rolling on my tongue, “if I dare to phrase it this way.”

Silence following my declamation, I dare to think that I ended up scaring that poor and benevolent soul. Sure she couldn’t handle my evil aura.

Actually…

I hope I didn’t frighten the Marquessa Ambrillia too vividly. I’d hate being the cause of the nightmares of such a pure-hearted lady.

Risking a glance down at her, that’s when I realise that she’s been peacefully enjoying her chocolate and raspberry cake.

“She’s not scared in the slightest!!”

She can’t be that pure-hearted.

“That cake is truly of a delicacy…” She muses over her last spoonful.

“Keillweist. Bring more of that cake.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, my lord.”

I raise an eyebrow at the answer. Not possible? A mere cake would stand in my way to satisfy the appetite of my beloved Ambrillia?

“How so?” I ask.

“This cake was the last our chef had the time to bake before you fired him.” My butler answers matter-of-factly.

The fact left me speechless. How could it be that such a worthless cook was able to please the marquessa? Never mind. I’ll hire a better one, he’ll bake even tastier pastries.

“A shame he doesn’t work here any more.” The Marquessa Ambrillia notes with a smile. “A chef whose hands are able to shape such delicious cakes shouldn’t go to waste.”

The way her tone weakens makes my eye twitch.

“Keillweist.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Cancel the dismissal of the cook.” I utter with no space left to argue, a tone I usually save for ordering a traitor’s death.

If not for my butler lingering in the room longer than necessary, I wouldn’t have noticed his baffled look at me. But as soon as I glance at him, Keillweist hurries out of the room.

“How kind of you to give him a second chance.” The marquessa notes.

“Kind..?” I utter in a whisper, as if saying it aloud were too risky.

That’s when the trap I’ve fallen into becomes clear. No… I can’t let her have such power over me. I’m the evil duke! Everyone should fear me!!

Gripping my cup vividly, I take it to my lips, gulping at a draught its whole content. But the further the horrid taste of herring mixed with what I hope aren’t rotten eggs assaults my throat, the more I regain focus over my sanity.

“Marquessa…” I utter in a hoarse voice, slamming the cup onto its plate. Shattering them. “Let me doubt your judgment. You may see but a perfect world with these compassionate eyes of yours, but I’ll have to remedy it. I am Rowan Luphor, the evil Duke, feared and respected throughout the whole kingdom of Emphrellaig.”

“I know.”

Her calm, brief answer takes me aback enough to make me sit back in my chair, words gone along with my thoughts.

“You wondered earlier about the reason of my venue.” The marquessa resumes. “If such is your wish, I can tell you the true reason.”

There it is.

The truth I’ve been awaiting to uncover. Is she really agreeing to reveal it to me? Her overconfidence will cause her downfall.

“Do you wish to know?” She asks in a tone that makes me tighten my grip on the cushioned armrests.

I nod.

Her smile broadens.

Silently, she stands up from the couch, taking her time to chase away the folds from her puffy dress. Does she think that she already won against me? That she holds all the cards she needs to defeat me?

Her heels barely tapping the floor, she rounds the low table, getting closer to my seat. She makes a huge mistake if she thinks I lowered my guard. Does she hide a dagger, thinking it’ll be enough?

Now standing next to my seat, the Marquessa Ambrillia leans forward, reaching out her hand near her face as if to tell me a secret… What is it with this weird position, though? Isn’t she supposed to lean closer to my ear???

A soft pressure. Lukewarm, yet enough to spread a fire in my chest.

Instead of nearing my ear, she just pressed her lips to my cheek.

“The true reason,” she whispers as she leans back, her amber locks brushing my ear instead of her voice, “is that you’re so amusing.”

“…”

Unable to form a single coherent thought, I watch her blankly straightening back, taking a few steps towards the corridor. Retrieving her frilly umbrella.

“I’m going to spend the next couple of days in your lands.” She turns a mischievous smile back at me. “I hope to see you again, Duke Luphor.”

And on that promise, she takes her leave.

Slowly, unsure if I’m more afraid to realise it’s a dream or reality, I reach out my gloved hand to brush my cheek, where the soft pressure of her lips still lingers.

I’m cooked.

Long after Ambrillia left, I keep roaming through my mansion. My thoughts circle around the recent events, no matter how many times I chase them away.

Whenever she’s close, I can’t help but be spellbound by the marquessa. Her scent, her smile,.. no. It’s more than that. It’s about the way she makes me forget everything else. About the way she brings that soothing warmth to my chest.

Am I now bound to think of her whenever she’s not by my side? That’s ridiculous… I only saw her twice. Even if it isn’t a mere lure crafted to defeat me, a trap of a mighty enemy pulling the strings of my demise in the shadows…

I don’t know what to do with these feelings.

My steps, as random as they are, end up leading me in front of a certain painting. Stopping in front of the giant golden frame, I raise my eyes to stare at it.

Long crimson hair akin to mine, yet infinitely more elegant. Free from any ties, strands cascade over his shoulder, down along his raven coat.

At this hour, only silence brushes the empty corridors as I contemplate the painting of my father for a while.

“…”

Reaching out my hand, my gloved fingers trace absent-mindedly the patterns carved along the frame, lacking the intricacy I wish they had. Only when I remove my hand do I notice the thin grey particles over my fingertips.

“How many times did I tell them to dust it regularly?” I frown, a sparkle of anger resurfacing. “Seems like I’ll have to fire another servant tomorrow for them to learn the lesson.”

Gathering my fingers into a fist, I pour all my resolve into this evil flesh of mine.

“How kind of you to give him a second chance.”

Ambrillia’s words echo in my mind like a potent curse.

I can’t let this go any further. Me, putting aside the daily pleasure of causing others’ misfortune? Abandoning my glorious place on the dark side?

The mistake was mine to see her again, but this time… this time was the last one! I know what remains for me to do.

“My lord?” Keillweist’s voice takes me by surprise, making me loosen my fist.

Turning away from the painting, I face him with a resolute expression.

“You’re still awake… What is it, Keillweist?”

“I’m the first one surprised to see you awake, my lord.” He pauses, glancing past me at the painting. Briefly. “…The servants are worried by your behaviour. They told me you’ve been wandering back and forth through the mansion’s corridors with a ghostly look. The maids even think the devil finally claimed your soul.”

A dry chuckle.

“Ohh, they hope.” I reply. “I, Rowan Luphor, still have decades of misfits to accomplish before allowing the devil to even lay a finger on my grim soul. That, even if I know how much he must crave it.”

“So be it, my lord.” My butler approves with a nod, solemn.

With these words, I turn away, retreating to my bedroom for the rest of the night.

I am the evil duke, I can’t let her sway me.

Tickled by the wind, wreaths of flowers move according to its commanding whispers. A scarecrow in bleached overalls stayed outside for too long, now forgotten in a sea of orange petals, a bunch of them having claimed dominance over his straw hat.

Cheek leant against the back of my hand, I observe the fields beyond the carriage window.

“Please, Duke Luphor, we beg you to place our lands under your protection…”

The servants of the neighbouring estate sent me an invitation after the death of the noble ruling them. An hour ago, I was still there, hearing their pleas for my protection.

“The lord’s banshee is gone… without her protection, the monsters could attack us at any time!”

Wise of them to call me right after their landlord died, I have to say. Being close on one side to a vast forest and to Oneixium on another, they actually had no better choice. They could do nothing and wait to see if the monsters would get them first, or if I would take advantage of the situation beforehand. But by submitting to my grand evilness first, they ensured their survival with a more… diplomatic outcome.

After all, banshees are grim fairies devoted only to noble families. Their power is such that more than often the nobles ask them to ensure their lands’ protection. So do I. They repel monsters more efficiently than any weapons.

Thoughtful, I observe immaculate underwear hanging on a rope close to the road, its frills swayed by-

“What…”

With a frown, I stare at the indecent sight. How shameless should one be to let such… such… things hang before the eye of the traveller?!

“Coachman!! Coachman, stop right now!”

This can’t be. I won’t let this happen on my lands.

The moment the carriage comes to a stop with a reluctant neigh of the horses, I step outside, aiming straight for the peasants’ cottage.

Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

Pouring my wrath into my fist, I let the door be the first victim of my outrage until someone finally turns the handle.

“Yes? Who is it?” An old woman glances up at me, paling the moment she recognises me.

Of course, even if she never saw me for herself before, my rich attire and crimson hair leave no doubt as for my lineage.

“…Duke Luphor?” Her voice shrinks, a male version of her waddling behind, reaching her side.

“So you’re the ones living on this field.” I raise my chin to the perfect angle, staring down at them. “Have you no shame? Letting your underwear hang so close to the road? Where any traveller would see them?”

“T-the…. I’m sorry my lord.” The old woman replies, her other half only physically standing next to her. “Our intent was never to offend you.”

“Offend? You soiled my eyes. Do you think your life is worth enough to repay me for such a crime?” I taunt.

“Please… No… We just… We wanted them to dry the sooner they could. It’s for the traveller that came to our humble house. She’s here for a few days… to learn about our flowers and acquire some seeds and…” The old woman stumbles over her words, trembling like a leaf. A result of her age or of her fright? I would say both. “We’re already not worthy of such a lady’s presence.”

I avert my gaze.

“A traveller here for a few days… A lady… Come to think of it, these frills were of a finer quality than what a peasant would ever get. Though…”

A wild thought crosses my mind.

“That’s impossible, right?”

“Duke Luphor?” The delicate voice makes me freeze. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Risking a glance, for my evilness’ sake I regret not being blind the moment I recognise the marquessa’s features. She reaches out her hand to her lips, barely covering her faint yet slightly amused smile. I can tell. She is. Amused.

“I’m confused,” she isn’t, “you weren’t supposed to see this so soon.”

I can feel a rusty scent invading my nostrils as I press the back of my gloved hand to my nose, turning away to flee.

Once in town, I stop for a while at the tailor’s place to let him take my measure. He adjusts his notes, scribbling over past ones in the corner of a page filled with sketches. With that spark of youthfulness still in the eye, well, he kept what comes along with it. I swear sometimes the way he glances at me matches the intensity of a demon lurking at its prey.

“Will it be ready for the next new moon?” I ask, leaning my head back.

“It will, no worries Duke Luphor. I’ll even have time to add some more details…”

“Please, no excessive fantasies.”

“It will be perfect.” The tailor replies, earning him a raised eyebrow. “By the way, I wondered… I wondered if you’d agree to try on one of my creations…”

As he speaks, the tailor reaches for said creation, a fabric adorned with-

“It’s a dress.” I note, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but I thought that-”

“Alberto,” I cut him short. “Think again and you’ll be the one to wear it and go dance in the forest. The monsters will surely appreciate a little treat.”

Done with him for today, I eagerly leave the tailor shop.

Despite being the messy type, his creations are always of quality. An eccentric who even does, for a handful of selected garments, the dyeing of the fabrics himself. That’s mostly why I keep coming here. That, and the fact I have known him for more than a decade.

The moment I step out of the shop, I hear someone humming. As I turn a curious eye towards the origin of the voice, I catch sight of a lady walking under an umbrella. Despite her head being mostly hidden by the latter’s green frills, I recognise her smile at once. The edges of her amber hair…

Gasp.

“She’s in town?! Oh no… No… Not again!!”

Without further ado, I proceed to run away, disappearing at the corner of the street before getting noticed by the Marquessa Ambrillia.

Once confident that I avoided the threat that this woman is, I resume my ride through the town, shaking my head at the distraction.

“I mustn’t, I mustn’t! I have to keep focused. I came to town to bathe in the inhabitants’ hatred directed at me.”

To my greatest pleasure, walking in the street alone earns me a more than honourable amount of worried glances and glares turning into worried glances the moment I return the favour. Ohh, how they hurriedly turn away.

Refreshing.

Unfortunately, that moment of bliss doesn’t last as, before I get the time to recover, I spot her again. Leant over a merchant’s products, the marquessa notices me and waves… though I step back and run away in a blink of an eye.

How many times does it happen again afterwards? Was this town always that small?? Every time I spot an umbrella, I shiver. Is it just my mind playing tricks? My heart races not because of the sight of her gracious silhouette but because of the distance my feet covered in the afternoon. Will she have no rest before I fall panting in front of her?

Finally, I come to a pause in front of a sweet shop.

A sweet shop, huhh?

Glancing at the name of the place, I realise with a satisfied grin that it’s one of the places I intended to visit today.

“Ohh, what a pleasant sight.” My panting subsiding, a smirk fiercely replaces it. “If that isn’t one of the shops which haven’t paid the levy in due time.”

Adjusting my golden ruffle, I step in.